


Femslash February: MCU Edition

by avesnongrata



Series: Femslash February [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:48:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avesnongrata/pseuds/avesnongrata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of the (shorter) MCU ficlets I wrote for Femslash February.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Missed You (MariaNatasha, G)

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings and ratings are indicated in the chapter title.

_I missed you_.

It takes her all night to actually say it, and when she does the words are murmured so close to Maria's chest that they're barely audible. Maria stirs under her, the familiar shifting of skin, the rippling of muscle, a slow, contented rush of breath that tickles its way across her back.

Natasha’s face falls. She should have said it earlier. She should have said it the moment she walked through Maria’s door, and she shouldn’t have stopped saying it until there was no doubt left between them. At the very least, she should have said it before Maria fell asleep.

 _Tomorrow_ , she promises herself. _Tell her_ _tomorr_ \--

With a soft sound low in her throat, Maria wraps her arms a little tighter around Natasha’s waist and brushes her lips against her forehead.

“I missed you, too.” 


	2. She's Got Me (Maria/Natasha, G)

"Coming to my rescue?" Natasha looks up at Maria, her expression a mix of sheepishness and pain.

"It looks like you could use a little help, yeah." Maria matches her light tone, despite the growing knot in the pit of her stomach. Natasha’s leg is well and truly pinned under some debris from a recently-collapsed building. Maria reholsters her guns and sizes up the slab of concrete, looking for a decent grip and secure footing. With a deep breath, she puts all her strength into prying the slab far enough off the ground for Natasha to slip free.

"My hero," Natasha hisses through gritted teeth. Maria offers her a hand to help her to her feet, but after a single step she crumples around her right leg, swearing colorfully.

Ever the field tactician, Maria evaluates the state of her injury as best she can. “It doesn’t look like you’re bleeding too badly. Do you think you can make it to the evac point?”

“Not on foot,” Natasha admits. Her grip on Maria’s forearm is the only thing keeping her upright.

The sound of gunfire drifts closer, headed their way.

“We’d better move,” Maria snaps. "Come on, I've got you."

In one fluid motion, she hauls Natasha across her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Natasha wastes no time drawing a pistol out of Maria’s holster and giving them cover fire as Maria charges through the combat zone.

By the time they make it to the rendezvous point, Maria is running on pure adrenaline. The rest of the team seems to be fully accounted for, thank god for that. From here, it’s only a matter of a couple hundred yards to the landing pad where the quinjet is waiting for them. Maria doesn’t bother to stop to catch her breath.

“Let’s move out!” Rogers shouts to the rest of the team before falling into step beside Maria. He shoots a sidelong glance at Natasha, still slung across her shoulders. “D’you want me to take her from here, Hill?”

He means well. She knows he does, but Maria can’t help the way her hackles raise. Before she can argue, though, Natasha laughs and shakes her head dismissively.

"She's got me.”


	3. Untitled (Maria/Natasha, E)

Natasha rakes her fingernails down Maria's shoulders, her back, her waist. With a shuddering gasp, she grips the straps slung low around Maria's hips and uses them for leverage as she pulls her closer, urges her deeper, _harder_.

It's probably a good thing that Maria can't actually feel anything other than a dull pressure against her clit. Each roll of her hips brings her closer and closer as it is; she can only imagine how much better it would be if she could actually feel herself moving inside Natasha with each thrust. She'd probably come embarrassingly, unacceptably quickly. That just wouldn't do. Not when Natasha's heels are hooked around the backs of her thighs and her face is buried in the crook of her neck, hot breath panting against her collarbone.

"God, Maria, don't stop!" The rest of Natasha's moan gets muffled as she sinks her teeth into Maria's shoulder.

It's all she can do to keep her pace tantalizingly slow and even, especially once Natasha's hips start to buck faster, out of her control. Maria shifts her weight so her hands can hold her hips in place, driving into her until, with a low, shattered sob, Natasha comes apart in her arms.


	4. Your Room Or Mine? (Maria/Pepper, T)

It's nearly 11:00 when Pepper makes her way to the sterile, anonymous bar downstairs. The place is empty except for a handful of bored businessmen and what appears to be a couple with questionable taste in vacation destinations. Not that she'd expected anything different, exactly; she's been in enough of these middle-range, middle-of-nowhere hotels to know that their bars usually don't offer much more than over-priced liquor in the way of excitement. 

She's about to give this one up as a lost cause and head back up to her room when she spots a rather formidable woman sitting by herself at the bar. Her well-tailored suit certainly stands out in this place, and she's nursing a scotch, one eye on the tablet in front of her, one eye on the basketball game on the TV behind the bar. Perfect.

Pepper orders a drink, then sidles up to her.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The woman looks up in annoyance, but it passes instantaneously, replaced with a disbelieving but appreciative smirk. "If you'd like."

"I'm Pepper." She extends a hand, and the woman takes it in a brief but satisfying handshake.

"Maria."

"You looked bored, Maria." Pepper offers by way of an explanation, testing the way her name feels.

"Excruciatingly bored," Maria agrees, setting her tablet aside. "I'm presenting at a conference tomorrow, and it cannot be over fast enough." She's lying. Pepper knows she is, but she lets it slide.

"I'm here on business, too. It's good to have some company. Sometimes I manage to drag my boyfriend with me, but he couldn't make it this time."

Maria's shoulders slump, just a little, the unmistakable hallmark of a person who thinks she's misinterpreted the situation. "You have a boyfriend?"

"We have an understanding." Pepper meets her eyes boldly, shifting a little closer to her, just enough for her knee to brush against Maria's through the neatly pressed fabric of her trousers. A tentative curiosity creeps back into Maria's expression.

"What about you?" Pepper prompts.

"Married to the job."

"Sounds lonely."

Maria shrugs, somehow managing to make her smirk look modest and cocky at the same time. "I do alright."

Pepper purses her lips, amused. "Do you, now? What's your secret?"

"Mostly I pick up gorgeous women in sleazy hotel bars." She raises an eyebrow in challenge or invitation.

Pepper chuckles warmly; it's good to know they're on the same page.

"Solid strategy. My room or yours?"


	5. The Next Step (Maria/Natasha, T)

With a sudden lurch and a splintering crack, the bed frame collapses, sending Natasha tumbling to the floor on top of their discarded clothes.

"Shit! Are you okay?" Maria winces as she scrambles to help her up.

"I'm fine. Impressed, really. We've hit the furniture-breaking stage well ahead of schedule," Natasha laughs, rubbing her elbow where she'd landed on it. "Having the bed break in the middle of sex is a bit of a mood-killer, though."

Heat starts to creep up the back of Maria's neck. "I'm sorry about your bed."

"Don't be. I got it from Ikea for like fifty bucks. I'll just put the mattress on the floor until I can get another one."

"Or you could move in with me." The words slip out on their own, but if she's honest, Maria's been looking for a way to say them for a few weeks now.

To her chagrin, Natasha blinks at her, nonplussed. "Is that really such a good idea?"

"Why not?" Maria shrugs, projecting more confidence than she feels. "We've been together almost a year. S.H.I.E.L.D. keeps us busy most of the time, and the nights we do have off we spend together anyway. Don't you think it's worth a shot?"

Chewing on the inside of her lip, Natasha studies Maria for several tortuous seconds. When she speaks, it's with a voice similar to the one she usually reserves for the interrogation room. "I leave my dishes in the sink for days at a time."

Maria meets her eyes, her expression soft and open. "I can learn to live with that."

"You never remember to buy groceries until there are only limp carrots and half a stick of butter left in the fridge."

"You can learn to live with that."

Natasha falls silent, but Maria can see all the other objections cycling through her head. Hell, they're the same ones that are currently making her blood pound in her ears and her tongue turn to dust in her mouth. _I've never done this before. I don't want to ruin this good thing we have going. I don't want you to stop loving me when my idiosyncrasies turn out to be too much to live with. I don't want this to be the mistake that makes me lose you._

"Okay."

At first, Maria is convinced she's hallucinating, but then Natasha's hand is on her neck, touching her just the way she likes it, and Natasha's lips are steady and sure when they find hers.

"Okay?" Maria breathes, a grin beginning to light her face.

"If you think we can handle it, I'm willing to give it a try." Natasha tugs her closer and kisses her again. "We're definitely going to have to invest in a sturdier bed, though."


End file.
